i lay awake in the silence.
i lie still in the dark,
the open air awaiting a break-
a breath,
a whisper,
a shuffling of feet.
i feel alone.
purely because i don't know how to acclimate into the riot-
the rumbling air of gasping laughs and straining voices- because the music fills up most of our space.
my ears ring on two days later,
awaiting your breath in my ear like honey,
a better ailment that serves less than a teaspoon-
less than an inch of grace.
it will never be enough,
until I Become Enough.
and the silence in this room will carry on,
until I shed the stumbling Fawn.
YOU ARE READING
speak softly
Poetryyou speak until your breath gives out, and the shallow huffs of words they never heard beg to be buried; but live on in the sidewalks. - - - prose/poetry
